hanging by a moment
by summerkid
Summary: A Brittana one-shot. Could be considered AU, I wouldn't really.


**_okay, i don't know what this is but i know who to blame... Grey's Anatomy! after watching it (several times) i just sat down listening to music (yes the music from the muscial episode lol) and this came out. is there a plot? idk, maybe. is it any good? idk, maybe. haha, i guess give it a whirl and feel._**

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><p>She ran beside her.<p>

Tears stream down her face she pushed a smile on to her face as she looked into those eyes she's knows so well trying to offer some sort of comfort. One of her hands, the free one, comes up to brush some of the hair from her face that was matted down with sweat, among other things, saying 'Don't worry'. But those were only words and at this moment they felt so foreign and came out uncertain.

People were talking around them, some yelling and demanding things from others, but they tuned them out the best they could. She looked back up at her, she was on her back and the bright lights from above captured the face hovering over her so perfectly. She felt herself nod at the words though they only provided her with a small fraction of feeling better, but that was something.

The hand in her own squeezed tightly as a shock went coursed through her body and cries of pain tumbled over her lips, echoing off of the walls of the hallway she had realized they were in. The other hand squeezed back and the face was closer, she could feel breath on her face that wasn't her own and her eyes closed trying to let that air wash over her whole body.

Doors open and they tell her she can't go over the marker and she fights them, she knew she would and that helps some as well. Eventually another hand comes from behind her and slips into her free hand. She looks over her shoulder to find her friend, her sister, one of the only two people who understand her. 'Come on, everything will be okay', the other girl tells her and her voice sounds so much more confident than her own had only moments before. She wonders if she truly believes it will all be okay or if those were merely platitudes she needs to say. Maybe she hadn't seen how bad it all was. She turns back to where her other hand is and she squeezes out a few more tears to see clearly and leans down placing her lips to chapped pale ones, 'I love you', she whispers onto those lips that know hers so well.

Their hands get pulled apart by force and are no longer touching, their fingers grazing each other's for the briefest of moments. She stands there watching the doors shut in front of her leaving her with tears, one empty hand and heart that is on the brink of being shattered. She sees through the glass as they turn her around the corner and then there's nothing but people milling through the opposite hallway.

The hand in her other hand tugs her in the other direction and when she opens her eyes once again she is sitting down, her head in a lap and her hair being smoothed out. She wonders if she can feel it in her hair. She wonders what kind of condition she is in. She had told her to get looked at, she remembers these words, but she also remembers her own. It wasn't imperative to get attention on her, it wasn't important, not now.

'I believe it will be fine.' That voice from above tells her again and she looks over her shoulder to see those eyes that have always held such a grown up outlook on life. She figures its due to the life she has led.

Her throat and mouth are dry, not that she wanted to speak, but if she did this would severely impair the words. So, she decides to remain as she has for the past few hours, silent. Her hands are sticky which prompts her eyes to fall upon her palm. Their red and if she had fallen asleep she would be freaking out, but she is still very much in the realm of reality. She sits up slowly, gets up from her seat and shows her hands to her friend.

'Bathroom.' She says and it comes out so hoarse and exhausted and scared. They both walk down the corridor and into the woman's bathroom. She helps her in getting cleaned up. Four hands under the faucet, only two vigorously cleaning the areas and then dabbing the pruned hands down till they are dry.

She looks up from all of the hands and sees another pair of girls. One looks so tired and almost defeated. Her hair is stringy and she can tell she needs it washed. It isn't until she feels a cold wet paper towel on her neck that she realizes the other people she sees is in fact her and her friend. Her breath catches and a bubble forms in her throat as she tries to tear her eyes away from her own reflection. She brings her hand up to her hair that is so disheveled and sopped with sweat, tears, rain and blood. A sparkle shimmers off of the mirror from the bright fluorescent lights and her eyes dart to the object.

It's so pretty she thinks but it only makes her knees weak. It was only a few hours ago when she was presented with it and when she said 'yes' and when they last kissed and when she last smelled her smell and when she last heard her say 'I love you' and when she last heard and saw and did so many other little things.

Another empty cup to add to the collection on the table in front of her takes its place. Her elbows on her knees, her fingers nervously interlacing together, coming apart and then doing the whole tick over and over again only add to the emotional wreck she has become. The spot beside her has been empty for some time now and she reaches over to find it cold, it had been more than sometime. Her eyes look down the hall, land on the desk to find her friend leaning onto it frantically speaking with a women in white.

She feels her body get up and move towards the desk and the closer she gets the more high pitched she can hear her friends voice is. Its low, like a whisper but it holds such need and desperation and frailty. Those eyes fall on to her own as she makes her presence known and the woman in white is dismissed by her friend.

The other girl takes her hand in her own just as she had done so many hours ago and led her back to their spot on the couch behind the table that held the tower of paper cups. Before they can sit down both girls hear their names being called and they turn around.

Mother's and father's run over towards them pulling them into hugs that could burst a balloon. She thinks she is hugging back but then she notices her arms limp by her sides. It is too much energy to be spent. Her own mother has tears in her eyes and no words on her tongue. She shakes her head and runs her fingers through her daughter's hair before pulling her back in for a softer more motherly hug.

Her father places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. He was never one for emotional moments but she is sure she can see the glint of tears in the corners of his eyes. But he turns around before one can fall.

They all take their places in the waiting area, heads whipping towards the door at any and every noise. She sits on her right, just as she had been for the entire time and she has their hands clasped on her own lap.

'It will be okay.' She hears her best friend say again and she is almost certain that the blonde girl is repeating it for herself rather than for her friend. She nods, squeezing the girl's hand back, this time being the one to provide that tiny dash of comfort these gestures are supposed to give.

She feels the spot on her left give way and her eyes look from the side to find the other mother taking a seat. A woman who has been like her second mother. One who has taken care of her when she has been sick, taken to her soccer practices, cheerleading practices, school and other things. For the first time in her young life she feels a wall between them. That is, until she feels a warm hand on her free hand.

It covers her own and when she looks down she spots the older woman's thumb playing with the piece of jewelry on her ring finger. She glances up to the blue eyes that are so similar to the ones she loves and watches them study the ring for a moment. Suddenly, realization falls over the older woman and she is almost positive she sees some heartbreak deep through those eyes. Their eyes meet and she feels herself nodding though her body wants to break down into sobs. Furrowed brows and upside down smiles cover their faces and the older woman pulls her against her chest.

'Oh sweetheart.' Her voice cracks against the younger girl's ear and this prompts the tears to come flowing from both of them.

Her friend watches, still clutching her hand tightly and wipes away her own tears with the back of her other hand. She was there, well, she was supposed to be there. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. They had plans, big plans and then a party and then forever.

Its more hours and minutes and seconds later when the doctor comes out. He spots her as being the one who had brought her in and judging from how distraught she had been then and especially now he seeks her out and pulls her to the side along with the parents.

Quinn watches with the Lopez family as the doctor is clearly explaining things to Santana and the Pierce's. Her nose twitches as she fights those tears she has been controlling so very well. Mrs. Lopez clutches on to her daughter's friends hand as they both watch closely, trying to read lips, interpret hand gestures.

A cry escapes the younger Latina's throat. On instinct, a split second reaction, not even quick thinking it literally took no thinking actually, Quinn was sprinting to the spot Santana stood at. The smaller girl's knees were slowly giving way and she would have tumbled to the floor completely had it not been for Quinn who caught her at the last minute. Quinn pays no attention to the Mr. and Mrs. Pierce who she assume are consoling each other and she tries her best to tune out Mr. and Mrs. Lopez speaking behind them. She finally lets herself cry, her face buried deep within Santana's dark hair.

'She's…' Santana's voice is panicked and shock ridden and gasping for air. She grips at the blonde hair in front of her pulling Quinn's face towards hers and kisses her face. 'She's alive.' Her eyes are bright, Quinn can see that light has been sparked once more and her heart falls deep down in her stomach. Though she had told Santana everything would be okay, she couldn't help but be a pessimist. God had a cruel sense of humor sometimes.

Quinn lets herself continue to cry hysterically, Santana now being the one to console.

The room is quiet, except for the beeping and the ventilator that the doctors had explained she had to be on for the next couple of hours. Santana held her hand, kissed it, wiped hair away from her face and smiled down at her. 'I love you' she said when they were alone. 'I love you' she said when the nurse came in to give her pain meds. 'I love you' she said when Quinn was there. 'I love you' she said when Mr. and Mrs. Pierce were standing on the other side of the bed holding their daughter's other hand.

She never left her side and she made a promise she never would.

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><p>It was 3:30 in the morning and she had her head resting on Brittany's shoulder, looking down at their hands. The ring Brittany had slipped on her finger still sparkled regardless of the dark moment in their life. It was like Brittany.<p>

'I should have known.' A voice came from behind her. She didn't have to look to know who it was. 'She always spoke highly about you, even when you got the both of you in trouble.' Mrs. Pierce laughs as she comes closer. 'But, it makes the most sense really.' She tells Santana, giving her shoulder a squeeze before walking around the bed and taking her daughter's other hand. 'That was her grandmother's.' She tells the young girl nodding her head down towards her hand. Santana looks down at the ring on her finger.

'Oh, she didn't…' Santana looks to Brittany and smiles softly.

'She didn't know her grandmother; she was so young when she passed.' Mrs. Pierce begins her eyes on Brittany. 'I remember she thought it was treasure.' Both women laugh and Santana shakes her head, typical Brittany. 'I told her it was and that she had to take care of it and keep it somewhere safe.' Santana lifts her eyes letting them land on the older woman unbeknownst to her. 'She lost it once and I had gotten so upset, I yelled at her for it…' She trails off, bringing her other hand to her cheek to wipe away tears that had betrayed her steady voice. A chuckle covers it up and she shakes her head. 'I shouldn't have yelled at her, she didn't understand and in true Brittany fashion she asked me why I was so upset.'

'It was your mother.' Santana states and Mrs. Pierce sucks in her lips and nods as she glances briefly to Santana.

'But I couldn't tell her that, she's so fragile and young and innocent.' Her eyes fall back on to her daughter who has tubes sticking out of so many places. 'So, I explained what the ring symbolized.' She reaches behind her, pulling a chair closer to the bed and takes a seat. 'My mother was 16-years-old when they first met.' She half smiles. 'He just… knew she was the one. He gave her that ring as a promise, that he would always love her no matter the distance, the problems or the fights.' She chuckles again glancing down at the ring on Santana's finger. 'He gave her that ring and then the next day he shipped out to war.' Her eyes find Santana's who had fallen deep into the story. 'He never came back.' She shook her head and Santana felt her eyebrows furrow and confusion set in.

'But, wait…' Mrs. Pierce had a small smile playing on her lips.

'The man that loved my mother and the man that she loved with all her being was not the man who was my father.' She explains and even though the truth to the statement is all rather sad, Mrs. Pierce can only find the beauty in it and that is clear in her voice.

'And she kept the ring, all that time?' The young girl asks, lifting her hand for a moment, inspecting the ring that they were speaking of.

'She never took it off.' Santana's eyes shoot back to Brittany's mother, her lips parted slightly, her eyes wide and her eyebrows rose.

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><p>He walks beside her, well, with her really. He is bringing her to her. It's warm out, it's perfect. She looks up and the sun creates a halo like appearance above her head. She smiles.<p>

He leans closer to her and tells her to go get her girl.

Quinn takes her flowers and then stands back letting her step up.

Brittany takes her hands and squeezes them. 'Hi' she mouths and her smile is flawless. 'Hi' Santana mouths back pulling the hands closer thus the blonde's body closer as well.

The wind, their words, soft music and their hearts beating are the only sounds soaring through their ears.

'I promise.'

'I love you.'

'Forever.'

'Soulmate.'

'Wife.'

'Wife.'

'Vow.'

'Mine.'

'Yours.'

'Ours.'

'Best friend.'

'Best friend.'

'Always.'

They walk down the aisle arm in arm. Promises made. Love given and taken and forever and always. They are happy and they know that they will always be that way. They've been tested before. They've been scared, on the edge, on the ground, they've fallen. But as long as they have one another they will survive. They will be.

She glances over her shoulder, the people are dispersing but past them her eyes fall onto the beach in the background. If she squints her eyes just so she can see a young man standing on the beach. He's in a uniform with his bag slung over his shoulder his arms open wide. A young woman in a pretty floral dress is running towards her, her arms outstretched as well. She sees her jump into his arms and they spin. It's one second, the blink of an eye really but she sees it. It's the ring. It has the same sparkle.

'Hey wife.' She hears and feels a nudge on her shoulder. Brittany is smiling at her, her hair perfectly falling down the angles of her face. 'You're amazing you know that?' She's not really asking a question but Santana replies none the less.

'No, you're the amazing one.'

**the end**


End file.
